


the heart of him

by Bates



Series: SPN writing Challenge entries [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: College!AU, Dyslexic Dean, Engineer!Dean, M/M, art student!Cas, demon mention, psychology student!jimmy, random art gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5824585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean keeps finding drawings on his desk and looks for the cause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the heart of him

**Author's Note:**

> [Title from Azra T.'s Tuesdays.](http://5000letters.tumblr.com/post/134338948472/his-unknowing-is-where-i-want-to-crawl-right)

Dean was exhausted. The special brand of exhausted that could only come from three assignments on one day, at least five liters of coffee on two days and the sprint he’d had to pull in order to get at the bus stop in time. Of course, because this was college and he _was_ a classic student, he’d made it, thirty seconds to spare, only to figure out the bus had a five minute delay.

So yes, by the time he got home he was tired, exhausted sweaty and _so_ ready to fall down on his bed, kick his shoes off and go to sleep. Screw the fact that it was only five pm, screw dinner and other responsibilities. What he wanted was sleep, to drift off and forget all about the other essay which had to be done in three days and he hadn’t even started.

“I see today has been busy,” his roommate said from his bed, grinning as Dean shifted his glance up to him. “Don’t mind me – just go sleep.” Cas had his art supplies scattered all around him: pencils and erasers, color pencils and something he could only guess was bottles of liquid watercolor strewn across the blankets with no real rhyme or reason.

“Dude, you’re going to lose or break your stuff if you keep doing that.” Something Dean had said _countless_ times. First time a bottle of china ink had fallen over and stained the sheets it had been fine, but it wouldn’t be with anything. If Dean had learned anything growing up, it was that art supplies were expensive. “We _had_ the ink disaster. I didn’t get it off my hands for _weeks._ ”

“Yes mom, I know.” Cas stared at him, unimpressed. “ _This_ is organized. That,” he waved in the general vicinity of Dean’s own desk, “isn’t.” Another thing on the ever growing to do list of things he needed to get done but just _weren’t_ appealing to him at the moment. From the corner of his eye he could see the all to familiar toned paper lay on top of his laptop.

“Did they come by again?” he asked, reluctantly sitting back up. It was another drawing, this one the third in a series of sketches he’d started receiving about a month ago. Admitted, he’d thought it was just a little weird, especially at first, but as they kept coming, Dean sort of _liked_ them.

“Yeah,” Cas said, “you’re a demon this time.” Dean would never get used to this, to seeing his own face on paper. Especially not now his eyes were completely black and smoke billowed around him. In the pencil drawing, there was a wicked smile on his lips and blood dripping down from his hand. Even _he_ was scared. “You have to give it to them, they’re _good_.”

“I never said they weren’t.” If they weren’t, Dean probably wouldn’t have kept each of them carefully, stashed away in the drawer that used to held his socks on an actual _layer_ of socks so they wouldn’t get damaged. “Dude, as bad as it may sound, I wouldn’t care for them as much as they were bad.” Maybe he’d care for them, but he wouldn’t be as inclined to find whoever was drawing these and just, _thank_ them.

“I’ve looked around,” Cas offered, “no one draws quite like that, at least not in my year. I could look around more but, you ask me, he doesn’t want to be recognized. No artist wouldn’t sign his art if he didn’t want to be recognize.”

“I know, I know.” Dean sighed before falling back in his bed again. “Artists always do especially at college, I know. It just sucks.” There was a knock at the door, Jimmy waiting for his ‘come in’ each time. “Hi Jimmy.” He should probably get up and give the guy a place to sit, but quite frankly he was beat.

“Hey Dean,” he said with a small smile before taking in the sight of the two of them. “I was going to ask you guys if you wanted to join me in going to dinner, but you look as alive as Cleopatra did on the slides today.” Jimmy frowned at him, the same way Castiel did but different, as he wanted to portray more worry. You okay?”

“Just take your brother,” Dean sighed, pulling his knees up so Jimmy could at least sit down, only to promptly stretch them out again. Jimmy _laughed_ before petting his leg “And bring him back later. Or don’t. Because if you don’t I might actually make my fortune selling his stuff so.” He smiled half into his pillow. “You can have him.”

“We’ll see.” Castiel huffed at that. “What Cas? If we sell your art after you die it’s more valuable and think about _art prints_. Dude. We could make hundreds of dollars of you.” Dean couldn’t be sure, but if his gut feeling was right, Jimmy’s yelp was because Cas poked him in the ribs. He couldn’t be bothered to look up. “Long day? You’re okay, right?” More of the worry. _Great._

“Yeah. Good. Just, exhausted. Tired. Go eat you nerds.”

“We’ll see if we can bring you some,” Jimmy promised before rescuing himself from under dean’s legs. “Maybe a piece of pie huh?”

“You’re an angel.”

“I _think_ you have me confused with my twin Dean.” Cas snorted at that, mumbling under his breath before pulling his brother out the room.

 

Dean woke up vaguely disoriented. There was snoring coming from the bed next to him and the faint smell of coffee in the air. His mind told him to go investigate but his heart said to stay in bed, where it was nice and warm. It probably wasn’t too late; he’d woken up earlier when Castiel and Jimmy came back, but fallen asleep when Castiel had grumbled a quick good night and had crawled beneath the covers.

He probably ought to find Jimmy and finally ask him if he had time to proof read his essay. If he was lucky, Jimmy could get it read through before the due date and then he’d at least have all the mistakes out.

Dean loved studying, he did. Even if it was hard work, he didn’t mind doing it if he got a degree and a group of friends in exchange. It had allowed him to make some amazing friends along the way, people like Charlie, Jimmy, Castiel, Gabriel. There were people he hung out with, hell he drank expensive coffee with them just because. That didn’t mean that it was always easy. There was the dyslexia sometimes making the words swim on the page and the essays sometimes felt like too much a burden to even start.

And then there had been Jimmy, the freakishly identical twin brother to his roomie, who had helped him out when he figured he had dyslexia and for some wicked reason didn’t mind proof reading his papers full of rambling and nonsense.

_First coffee, then Jimmy._

Dean arrived at Jimmy’s room a half an hour later with two Starbucks in his hands and laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Least he could do for waking him up at this hour. Cas and his brother had come back around two am and if Jimmy was anything like Cas – which Dean _knew_ he was - he’d spend New Year’s at their house and been send in for the task of waking up the Novak boys – he wouldn’t get out of bed until about noon.

Which was _now_ so he was either going to wake him up and face a very grumpy Jimmy Novak or a still sleepy, hair tousled version with half lidded eyes. Truthfully, Dean didn’t quite know what he’d prefer. He’d developed a fondness for the other Novak after he’d crashed in their room and had come out of the bathroom all grumpily and well, half dressed.

Jimmy really wasn’t an ugly guy. Scratch that, sometimes he made Dean’s breath cut short and his heart pound faster and it wasn’t just the looks either. Jimmy was almost _innocent_ sometimes and kind and less sarcastic than his brother. His smile could probably turn Dean’s world upside down.

So yeah, Dean was _screwed_ – in the figurative sense of the word. He had a huge crush that could probably be seen from the sky and the guy was a psychology student. His professors practically helped them see the way others felt and behaved. If he hadn’t already noticed the huge crush he would do soon enough.

With how long it took Jimmy to open the door after he’d knocked, leaving Dean wondering how _deep_ the guy could sleep. It was right as he wanted to turn around and walk away that the door opened, Jimmy dressed in not a lot more than the towel around his waist and hair still dripping. _Oh._ Dean felt a blush creep over his cheeks.

“Oh, hey,” Jimmy mumbled. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, loads. Like I said just a long day. You busy? I could come back.”

“Oh, no.” A faint blush creeped over Jimmy’s cheeks at that. “Sorry, I was just taking a shower when you knocked on the door. Go sit down I’ll get dressed.” Jimmy ushered him in before disappearing back into the bathroom to get dressed. “What did you need me for anyway?”

“I was wondering if you could,” Dean let his eyes scan the room, from the books on Jimmy’s desk to the pencils scattered all across his bed. “You know, read over my essay for me again, maybe help me out a bit? My last one sucked and I really need to get my marks up.” Dean picked one of them up and spun it between his fingers. _Blueberry_ wasn’t a terrible name for a pencil - some of Cas’s had weirder names – but he’d never understand why people named colors so weirdly. Pink was pink, purple was purple, no matter what shade it was.

The color vaguely reminded him of the picture they’d found, though he couldn’t quite point at which part of the drawing it was. “I didn’t know you draw?”

“Yeah, I don’t think Cas even knows,” he shrugged, searching through his closet for a shirt before pulling it on over his head. “I started a few months ago. Can’t say I’m good but.” He shrugged, reaching for the pad of paper on his pillow. “I’m trying and it’s something else than endlessly reading about the visual system and how the brain processes visual stimuli according to vision scientists. Is that coffee for me or were you just arranging your homework on the way to a date?”

“Yours. Figured I’d wake you up so I brought you some coffee as a peace offer.” He couldn’t help but smile as he passed the cup and  “I mean, I _could_ go look for someone to ask out on a coffee date but that’d be last minute don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.” Jimmy shrugged before picking some of the pencils. “I don’t know your type, but I’m sure there’s some women who’d be willing to go out with you. You know, black hair, wants to become a physical therapist?”

“Lisa? _Dude_.” Dean almost choked on his coffee. Lisa had been lovely and for a moment, sure there had been something between them. To use her words however, ‘ _I’m not who you want Dean. Who you want is a solid foot taller with short hair and will probably have a psychology degree in four years’_. Ironic as it may be, she had been the one to help him realize that yeah, his crush was worse than it seemed. “I haven’t been with Lisa in months? Who even told you?”

“Cas did. You guys aren’t together anymore? According to Cas you guys were the couple of the year.”

“No, it didn’t work.” He didn’t quite know how to say what went wrong. “My mind wasn’t really with her and truth be told, we’re better off friends.” He grinned. “Now I get free massages so she can practice some techniques. I can’t say I’m complaining. I should probably leave you to it, whatever you were drawing.”

“It’s fine, I can finish up later. Do you want to run over it now?”

 

They worked until five pm, Jimmy showing him some ways he could improve his writing and how he could have word do all the work for him. After a while Jimmy had pulled up a second chair and started reading him his essay, to see how they could improve it without Cas doing all the work for him.

At first, it had been fine. The work was enough distraction that he managed to keep his mind at it but after a while, he just couldn’t concentrate anymore; he was hungry, exhausted and Jimmy still vaguely smelled like apple, or whatever the synthetic smell of his shampoo was.

“Okay, I think we’re done,” Dean mumbled before submitting the file. “If I see any more I think may start throwing punches.”

“You’re starting to get better at it, when you manage to stay focused. Where was your mind?”

“Nowhere, really. I’m just hungry – I forgot to eat before coming here.”

“I’d ask you if you want to grab something but I think I need to get ready. Class starts in an hour and I still need to read through the stuff for today.”

“I’m sorry for taking up so much time and thanks, again.” A smile stretched across Jimmy’s face and Dean wished that it would just stay there.

“Of course Dean. If I can help, I will.”

 

It was two days later that Dean stepped out of the shower and saw a figure standing at his desk. For a solid minute, he just froze, adrenaline already pumping through his veins. If it had been Cas, the lights would have been on inside and there was no one else that _should_ be in their room. Jimmy would always knock and let them know he was there.

Armed with nothing but an empty shampoo bottle and dressed in nothing but his boxers – something he _knew_ he’d regret – he sneaked the bathroom door open.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” It was in the moment he snapped the light on that he noticed the drawing that now lay on his desk. _Gotcha._ Dean slid his eyes up from the drawing to the familiar button up and face.

“I’m sorry.” He froze as it dawned on him. His mysterious artist was _Jimmy_. There was a sheepish expression on the other man’s face. “Surprise?”

“It was _you?_ ” His mind was still trying to make sense of the fact. “Why didn’t you say something man?”

“I was going to but then Cas told me about how you thought it was weird, so I chickened out?” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You talented son of a bitch,” he breathed. “I thought you were a _burglar._ I could have hurt you.”

“With a bottle of shampoo?” The sheepish expression had exchanged itself for amusement. “Dean, I am not going to say that you’re incapable but shampoo has never seriously injured anyone.”

Dean huffed. “You’re lucky I didn’t have anything sharp of heavy. We’ll now I know you’re not going to kill me, sit your ass down. I’m going to get dressed.” He was mildly self-aware standing there in nothing but his boxers. “Why me?” He left the door open so they could at least talk. Dean had so many questions, ranging from why waste your talent on me to just _why._

“You have a beautiful face to draw,” Jimmy shrugged, mouth opening as if he wanted to say something but he shut it again. Dean couldn’t be sure from the bathroom, but he thought he saw the other man blush. “And to be honest, I just needed something to take my mind off all the work and then you’d fallen asleep and something about it just _asked_ me to draw you, you know? I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good,” he mumbled. “if anything, I’m honored man.” Now dressed, he patted over to the new drawing. “You drew this two days ago?”

“Yeah. Like I said, you’re a good subject to draw.” He was smiling almost insecurely at him. “I didn’t mess up our friendship because of this, did I?”

“Jimmy.” He fell down on the bed next to him. “Don’t worry so much. I’m honored. Glad to know it’s _you_ and not some.” He didn’t actually know who he was afraid it was.

“And not a girl with a mile high crush on you?”

“Or guy. I’ve dated some talented guys before, didn’t I tell you?” He could talk about so many of the people he’d hung out with in high school, like the vague thing they’d had going on between Benny and him. “One day I’m going to have to introduce you both to my high school gang. Benny makes some _killer_ breakfast if you ask me. I was to be honest just scared I had a stalker. Nobody knows how to draw me that well from just memory.”

“I’ll keep you to it;” he mumbled. “I was really scared you’d throw me out for a minute.”

“Nah, we’re good.” Dean smiled before bumping his shoulder. “You’re not doing my mile high crush any good but yeah.” _Oh shit._ He’d let you just a bit too much. After the talk about Benny it had been almost natural, he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t talking to Cas for a minute.

“Maybe I should keep drawing then,” Jimmy smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think there’s more of a…crush possible.” Dean frowned at the sentence, looking back at where Jimmy seemed to doubt for a moment. “I think drawing someone repeatedly is the epitome of a crush.”

_This was his chance._

“Maybe not?” he offered. “I think that just means that I’m free the rest of the afternoon and maybe you are too?”

“Is this the Dean Winchester way of asking someone out on a date?”

“Maybe? Does it affect the answer? I can bribe you with coffee?”

“I don’t know. I might have to think about it.” He just grinned at Dean before getting up. “Yes. My treat.”

“Dude, I’m paying,” he muttered, pulling the other guy back before he got too far. Jimmy stumbled, practically falling over his own feet before landing on Dean’s lap. They were so close, it was the perfect opportunity to just, _lean in_.

Jimmy froze for a second but melted against him, lips gentle against his.

“This is in no way going to help you, you know,” he said, still close enough that he could feel his breath ghosting over his skin. “I’m still paying.”

“We’ll see about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find this fic on [Tumblr](http://confusedjimmy.tumblr.com/post/138090052390/the-heart-of-him). Thank you for reading! ;;


End file.
